


The Rebellion

by LieArthur



Series: Hundred Years of War [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Dark Plot, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mafia AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, slight slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieArthur/pseuds/LieArthur
Summary: The rain pours down heavily, creating already a big puddle underneath his bare feet. The realization sinks in before he could even process it.He was alone.He was alone and the smell of the earth doesn't comfort him, but the fading rotting smell of blood does- along with pile of bodies around him. He lets a relieved smile paint his face, the heavy burden on his shoulder seemingly to have disappeared as he subconsciously remembers everything that had transpired.There's no need to mourn.In the end, he had won.





	1. Prologue

_“What do you desire?”_

_Red paints the walls of the spacious room, save from the color of the black ceiling and gold intricate linings stretches out from the door of the room creating an abstract design that may have looked like the thorns of a rose or simply, a pattern that reflects a person’s feelings._

_The room contained nothing but a long oriental couch between two dividers wherein the right depicts of a sun and the left with a moon which sits at the center back of the room. Roses and rose petals are scattered on the floor, burning and yet, seemingly not turning to ash._

_A young woman, clad in a black kimono with butterfly patterns at the hem of the sleeves and dress—too big and too long, was seated on the couch, legs crossed and head tilted to the side. Her amber eyes scrutinizing at the man standing five feet away from her._

_“What do you desire?” she repeats, voice mellow and sweet. The man doesn’t speak for a moment, too entranced at the sight of the woman, but soon regained his bearing when a revolting scent filled his nose. He looked around for the source, but found nothing and he returned his attention to the master of the room._

_She blinks, waiting patiently and he responds with a whisper, confused and unsure._

_“I-I don’t know.”_

_A burning rose at the back of the room starts to melt and the sound of a piano was heard from a distance. The woman stares at him and he shivers at the coldness that is reflected in her eyes._

_“What do you desire?” she asks again, ignoring his previous response which the man had realized that he must give out a proper answer this time or else, there will be a consequence._

_He ponders for a minute, eyes shifting anywhere except in front of him as he thinks what it is what he truly desires. Then all of a sudden, a sweet scent infiltrated his nose and his tense form which he hasn’t noticed became relaxed, as well as his mind clearing up and a single answer remains._

_He looks at her, eyes wide and a smile. “Revenge.”_

_White hair caught his gaze at the side and he turns to find the woman beside him with a small smile, not noticing her hands between his head and – a satisfying crack resounds in the room along with the paean piece being played by the piano soon came to a stop and the rose petals stops burning._

_She hums, enjoying the spill beneath her bare feet, her long kimono soaking in it and dying the butterflies in red. After a minute of relishing the feeling, she moves away and takes her leave from the room. But before she left completely, she looks back and murmurs, “Your wish shall be granted.”_

_And the door shuts._

__

_Seville, Spain_

The door shuts with a quiet thud, signaling the people in the room of someone’s arrival. They ceased their chattering and straightened their postures as soon as they saw who it was. Walking up the stairs that connects to the elevated floor where the semi-circular table sits, the person rounds the area to take the vacant sit at the middle, crossing their leg as they sat on the throne.

The table comprises of leaders from several houses, clothed in their respective robe with their designated colors and insignia. A mask hides their faces, but it doesn’t hinder them from knowing who is who.

“Greetings, Herald,” they chorused, heads bowed down a bit before lifting their heads in unison. A moment of silence embraced them before someone from the left, two seats away from the herald stood up and raises their arms and loudly welcomed everyone in the room.

It was a woman, blonde hair peeks out from the hood of the rust-colored robe, and at the side of the hood, a badge that depicts a wing could be seen. “My my, it had been too long since we had gathered altogether. I can see that even the Outcast are here. Such an occasion should be celebrated, don’t you agree?” the woman grins, looking over to the herald then to the other leaders and when no one had responded to her ridicule opening, she frowned.

She grumbled under her breath, taking her seat and huffs out petulantly. On the right side of the herald, a man, whose robe are dyed in silver ash with a badge of a scale that sits on the heart, stood to take over, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“An inappropriate behavior ‘Hermes’, such conduct will be issued with a warning of indecency,” he states that caused the woman—‘Hermes’—to look away and grumbled more curses under her breath, paying no heed to acknowledge the warning given.

The man, who is also known as ‘Dike’, stares at her for a moment, before carrying on to speak about as to why they were gathered in the great hall. He picks up the stack of papers in front of him, gesturing the others to do the same.

“I know that everyone had heard the gist of what is going to happen today,” he starts, pausing a bit to gauge everyone’s reaction. Some had started murmuring to themselves, albeit a bit quiet not to cause distraction while the others takes a look at the papers they are holding. “But I’d like everyone to take everything into account in the papers given to you. But since we are cutting short in time, I’ll give the important points to pay attention to.”

Briefly looking at the papers in his hand, he starts. “Just like with the European and American mafia system, the Korean, specifically the Seoul-based is similar to those system. Comprising their own council, mediator, and seven families hold the power in their respective areas. Reports had stated that there had been a turbulence brewing in the seven families, causing dispute and a war.”

A man, wearing a robe dyed in violet at the end of the table, raises his hand. ‘Dike’ motions him to speak.

“Isn’t it common for a war to happen? The council observes and the mediator interferes while the seven families holds their card, are we not called by our oath? I apologize if I sound rude, but I fail to recognize that we, the International Council, had to be gathered to hold such a meeting for a trivial issue. It’s a waste of time.”

A silent agreement resounded in the great hall, understanding the argument made. The International Council had been formed to create peace in the mafia in different parts of the world, preventing a ruler, but rather creating a balance in power. Having a meeting would always be such a rare case, since not all could fly over to the designated area for their meetings as such occasion greatly needs them to be.

‘Dike’ hums in agreement. “I would have agreed and shared your sentiment ‘Dionysus’, but unfortunately, I can’t. I wish that it was such a trivial matter, but the war isn’t simply bloodshed.”

He sighs. “It was a rebellion.”

Gasps were heard around the room, the murmurs steadily increases in volume, shock tweaked in their confusion and curiosity.

“What’s the damage?” someone had asked, their voice calm and steady despite the news.

‘Dike’ grimaced, looking at the information in the papers before meeting their expectant gazes. “Annihilation of four families out of seven. Their Council had called for code red.”

Clashed voices rang in the great hall.

“Code red? What the hell happened there?”

“A mere rebel had annihilated four families?”

“Who is the rebel?”

“Did the mediator do nothing?”

‘Dike’ shook his head in disagreement. ”The mediator had done their job and they are in critical condition right now. For some reason, the rebel had kept them alive, but not after leaving them close to death.”

‘Hermes’ raises her hand, dispelling the commotion into a buzz of murmurs. “Killing points?”

The leaders look at ‘Dike’ and he motioned for them to look at the papers. “A total of three shots for both hands and the forehead. You may see the attached pictures at the back of the papers.”

Despite the gruesome pictures, unusually, they had quieted down. Their eyes stared at the pictures provided to assess the grave situation, to know whether it is truly a cut for code red or not. ‘Dike’ had given them time to look more into the situation itself that they may come to one agreement. And as they browse through the papers, taking in the information alongside with the pictures, they grew restless once the realization sunk in.

A woman, three seats away from ‘Dike’ had spoken up. “Where is the rebel now? An aid from us must have been provided even without our consent. Surely, they must have caught him, right?”

Tilting her head to the side, she asked the question that most of them had been wanting to know. “Most importantly, do we know him?”

Looking at the herald, ‘Dike’ sought for permission to speak of such matter and the herald met his gaze before looking away and it was all that he needed. He nods his head to affirm their suspicion. “Indeed, they had caught the rebel. As for his identity, I think it is much better for everyone to see who it is.”

He motions the guards that stood behind the door and one of them had knocked on the wood behind them before they took the handle and stepped away to open it. A cage was wheeled in to the center of the great hall, a red, large cloth enough to cover a body was thrown over to the rebel’s body to signify of their status. The handcuffs clinked along with the chains as the murmurs ceased in anticipation to get a look at the man who caused a rebellion.

One of the men who wheeled in the cage, took the red cloth and the once silence had been replaced with utter shock and disbelief. Some of them stood, pointing their finger at the rebel and even if a mask hid half of their face, their voice couldn’t hide the tinge of panic laced in it.

“You?!”

“Wh-Why? How could this happen?”

“It can’t be.”

The rebel looks at them with a raised eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Oh? That’s not the reaction I was expecting. I would have relished the fact if it was hatred, but confusion and shock? It might as well be an appetizer.”

‘Dike’s’ voice rang loud and clear. “Silence! A rebel like you has no right to speak.”

Bored, the rebel merely shrugs. “Do I look like I care?”

The scale badge gleams in momentarily red as ‘Dike’ raised an eyebrow at the nonchalant behavior, completely displeased. “No, you don’t and I’m fully aware of that. But remember your place, barbarian. A gross indecency can mean a bullet in your head.”

“Sounds fun!” the rebel says with a grin and then frowns immediately. “But that would be boring, so I might as well behave.”

‘Dike’ glares, a scoff threatening to leave his mouth at the arrogant attitude displayed. But that would mean he would have played at the rebel’s hand, embarrassment and humiliation for losing temper for such a trivial act. He composes himself quickly, but not relieving the other with his glare. “Now then, do you affirm to the killings of the four families in Seoul?”

The rebel laughs mirthlessly. “Be specific, sweetheart. I killed a lot of families and I don’t know which one is which,” they sweetly said, clasping their hands together to rest their chin on.

A pause. “You know fully well whom those of I speak, traitor.”

Not getting the wanted reaction, the rebel frowns and scoffs in response. “Fine. Yes, I did. I would have thought that my killing points are enough indication that it was me.”

“You are aware that anyone can copy anyone’s points, right?”

Raising an eyebrow as if they had heard the most ridiculous response, the rebel deadpanned. “Of course, but you would have known that it was me all along if you had extracted the bullet and had gone a test for it and it would only point to me. But since you guys are cowards, you had to waste four months only to lose half of lower chains just to capture me.”

Chatters filled the room at the response that answered the deployment of aid. Four months and killing half a thousand men was a feat to react to with caution. A loud bang had all the chatters stop, as they look at the herald in surprise and had not continued their chatter to let the interrogation continue. ‘Dike’ shows his appreciation to the herald with a nod. He looks at the man on the cage with a scowl. “What was your reason to rebel? What is your objective?”

Metals clinked together as they shift their position to a comfortable one, eyes trained to their fingernails in favor than to look at an ugly sight. “I believe, I can’t answer that. My reason and objective is mine alone, now if you want the answers, how about you guys use your pretty heads for once.” The rebel looked up and met his gaze with a mischievous grin. “But if not, might as well get the answer from a dead man.”

Silence reigned in the room, an understanding that this is a far as they could to get an answer. The rebel had given them nothing, but a dead end. A reason for nothing, unless taken from a dead man. The herald, who had kept their silence all throughout, had looked at the man beside them. ‘Dike’ returned the gaze with a nod and took their seat. The interrogation was over. The sound of church bells could be heard at the distance.

“ ~~)+01^( &z9?v3~~, it’s time for your judgment.”

A sly grin appears on the rebel’s face.

A bomb explodes.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Oh? Why hello there. I wasn’t expecting an audience today. What brings you here? Hmm? It’s fine if you don’t answer, I could do the talking for the most part. I’ll let your presence slide since it had been a long time I had interacted with someone.]

It was the start of summer. Harsh, yet warm light flows in through the gap of the curtains into the room shaking away the remnants of the coldness of the night before. It continues to infiltrate inside the room, cascading towards the lone naked body on the bed wherein a blanket was thrown hastily over to cover his lower part. The light dances along his skin, making him look ethereal and as the sun’s rays continues to rest on his body, the warm prickling heat nudges the sleeping body awake.

He scrunches his face and lets out a whine, rolling himself to the side to get away from the prickling heat and when the light doesn’t chase him over to his place, he lets out a relieved sigh and continues to sleep. The door of the room opens with a loud creak and still, it had unbothered the sleeping figure. A man in a well-tailored suit walks in and had thrown a disappointed glance at the man on the bed. He walks to one of the windows that was across the bed and briefly looks at the person behind him before swiftly pulling the curtains away and tucks it to the side.

A full blown light crosses the room and covers the bed and the male on it. Unable to bear the heat, the figure opens an eye, squinting at the shadow of a man standing in front of the window. He groans when he realized who it was and turns his body away, trying to find refuge in the once cold bed.

“Wake up, you sloth. It’s already past 8 am,” the man chides as he walks away from the window and instead moves to take away the blanket that covers the latter’s remaining dignity. “Choi Youngjae, I swear in Jinyoung’s hatred for Yugyeom if you don’t wake up this instant, I won’t hesitate to throw all your games and consoles to the furnace.”

Hearing the threat, Youngjae groans loudly and begrudgingly opens his eyes and carefully sits up, glaring at the man in front of him in disdain. The man simply rolled his eyes, unaffected at the glare thrown at him.

“Stop it. Be thankful that I had volunteered to wake you up instead of Jackson.”

Youngjae huffs and pouts. “No one asked you to do it Bambam.”

Bambam glares at him this time. “Yeah, well if only I have a death wish from the boss then certainly I wouldn’t have woken you up.”

“You’re being overdramatic.”

“Yeah, right. How about you stop being a whiny princess and get your ass out of the bed and start cleaning yourself? You reek of sex,” Bambam hissed and crossed his arms on his chest, eyeing the stained duvet that is going to end up in the laundry again for the tenth time of the week.

Youngjae rolled his eyes but nods his head anyway, unable to retort back when the younger had stated the fact (well, not him being a whiny princess) of him reeking of sex. He could feel some cum dribble down to his legs when he got out of the bed and felt a little conscious about it and decided to take the stained blanket to wipe away the cum to avoid getting it on the newly bought carpet he had a week ago before wrapping it around his waist.

Bambam simply watched him and lets out tired sigh as he uncrossed his arms and waves his hand towards the bathroom door. “I’ll get your clothes, so hurry up and take a shower. I’ll have someone change the bed sheet later. We have a meeting in an hour from now.”

“A meeting? For what?” the older questioned, head titling to the side a little bit as his hands adjust the blanket around his waist more comfortably.

Bambam shrugs. “I don’t know. Jackson just announced it to us in the living room. Apparently, Jaebum hyung was the one who called for it.”

Youngjae hums and pokes his tongue out to take a swipe on his bottom lip, a nervous habit he can’t seem to break away whenever an unspecified meeting was called out for. He doesn’t say anything else and just shoots Bambam a small smile and waddles his way to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, Bambam eyed the stained sheets for the last time before letting out a groan. He shudders at the images that formed on his head and the fact that he touched a stained blanket with his bare hands. He would definitely kill Jackson for letting him do this. Blackmail be damned, he won’t volunteer again.

“Ew, I need to wash my hands first.”

Bambam stands in front of the door to their meeting room with Youngjae behind him, clean and fresh from shower. Bambam had him wear his black polo shirt tucked in with his maroon coat that matches his slacks with a pair of black Gucci shoes and though the fashion sense doesn’t match with Bambam’s, Youngjae doesn’t really care that much with his appearance unless he was in a mission. He had been playing with his hair for the last five minutes, trying to get it cooperate with him but to no avail and lets out a groan of distress which caused the younger to glance behind to look and hiss at him to keep quiet.

The younger then proceeds with three sharp, precise knocks and patiently waits for a reply. Youngjae had long given up fixing his hair and had opted to have it messy for the whole day and waits together with Bambam for a reply and when a gruff voice replied telling them to come in, Bambam already has his hand turning the doorknob of the room and opens the door.

The two stepped inside, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The room for the meeting was huge compared to the other rooms in their manor.  It had fit a living room and a kitchen extension for Mark and Jinyoung when they prepare snacks for them to eat. Besides several antique furniture and portraits hanging on the walls, a long, rectangular table that is enough for eight people was set conveniently at the middle of the room with three chairs at both sides facing each other and a single chair at the top side of the table where their leader sits.

Youngjae notes that the others are already in their seat, a coffee and folder in front of them as he takes his seat across Jackson who grins at him. He grins back equally and takes a sip of the freshly brewed coffee in front of him and silently thanks Mark in his head for the great coffee he always make. There was a snicker and Youngjae immediately glowers at the smug grin of the person at the right of Jackson.

“Do you have something to say Yugyeom?” He doesn’t bother to hide his irritation in his voice, knowing full well that the younger is testing his patience early in the morning. Yugyeom shrugs and ignores the daggers that the older is sending in his direction and shifted his attention to his coffee instead.

“Well, are you guys ready for the meeting or what?” A loud voice snapped across the room that had the two males turn their heads toward the source of the voice. An auburn-haired male raises an eyebrow at them, lips turned into a frown and patience wearing thin which caused Youngjae and Yugyeom to mutter an apology.

Youngjae steals a glance at Bambam who was beside him. The younger caught his gaze and simply shrugged, but lets his lips twist into a smile that meant that he’ll deal with Yugyeom later on for him. He shifts his attention back to the front, eyeing Mark who was quietly sipping his coffee and Jinyoung, who snapped at them a while ago. He sees the latter mutter under his breath as if to curse someone which could be Yugyeom because honestly, Jinyoung has a soft spot for Youngjae himself so it’s very unlikely that the older is cursing at him or probably it could be their leader who hasn’t arrived yet wherein Youngjae lets his gaze fall to the empty seat in front of them.

Before he could even think of reasons why their boss hasn’t arrived yet, a door at the far end of the room opened and everyone had sat up straight, the atmosphere of the room dropping to cold respect and loyalty for the man they swore their lives with. Youngjae stares at their boss, lips pursed as he asses the clothes the man wore. Clad in black shirt and white coat, his black slacks matches with his shoes and a brooch meticulously sits at the right pocket, signifying their family and of his title. He silently affirms the choice of suit and he could feel the silent agreement of Bambam beside him. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to see your boss.

Jinyoung stood up as the representative for the other members in the room and addresses their leader with a small smile. “Jaebum hyung, it’s a pleasure to have you here with us.”

Jaebum makes a small gesture of a nod, but doesn’t bother to spare a glance at the underboss as he takes his seat in his throne and Jinyoung follows after. There was just silence for a few moments, save by the ticking of the grandfather clock beside the main door, nobody moved and one might say that none of them are breathing too heavily as if they are scared that if they did, their head will be served in the platter.

“I assume everyone is complete?” Jaebum asks simply and everyone except him quickly relaxes, nerves still frazzled, but they are glad that there’ll be no bloodshed going to happen unlike last time they had a meeting. Unfortunately, a mission had gone wrong and a bullet had grazed Yugyeom in the cheek as soon as Jaebum had sat on his seat. Fortunately enough, their leader seemed to be in a good or neutral mood.

Though Jaebum doesn’t really need to ask if they are complete since there had been no vacant seat except his, Mark answered with a ‘yes’ and Jaebum hums in affirmation. “Good. I have two things to talk about today, but first, I need the report for the missions assigned to the capos last two weeks ago. If there had been no problems or whatsoever, say affirmative, but a successful mission, yet had a problem before, during or after the mission or an unsuccessful one, say negative and explain why. We’ll start with you Yugyeom,” he addresses the youngest capo, hand going for the warm cup of coffee in front of him to drink.

Yugyeom, their youngest capo, had simply murmured an ‘affirmative’, but was enough for the six of them to hear since his murmur wasn’t exactly hushed to begin with. He had been assigned to Russia for the past two weeks and though he would have wanted to complain about the cold weather making him ill during his mission; he doesn’t. He knew better than to complain about trivial things in an important meeting and had opted to rant to his best friend later instead.

Bambam was up next. His job was mostly to be in his room creating blueprints for missions and less in field duty, so he was rather surprised to be assigned in Brazil to hunt for fugitives and though he wasn’t exactly keen remembering the details of what had happened in Brazil, he still needs to report the mess that had transpired which made him lose his Saint Laurent watch. With pursed lips, he grunts out a, “Negative.”

A hum was heard and he continues. “The mission would have been flawless, but the fugitives had connection in one of the mafia families in the port. It appears that the family was a branch from the main family from where the fugitives once came from. I had no choice but to kill the branch family as instructed by Jinyoung hyung, but I had kept one alive.”

A slam of the cup had Bambam look at their underboss. If he was afraid, he wouldn’t show it, but he is and his fear rests at the hitch of his brow and purse of his lips. The instruction was for no survivor and he knew it was blatant disobedience and yet, he couldn’t really help himself but save one. Jinyoung was a person not to cross with and disobedience with instructions was one thing that he doesn’t tolerate at all.

“Why?” Jinyoung’s voice was calm, but everyone knows that if Bambam doesn’t have any justifiable reasons for his action, a bullet in the shoulder would be the price. There was no immediate answer, but that was alright just as long as their leader have the patience to hear the reason out, then Bambam could take as long as he want to form out his reason and even if their leader is willing to wait, their underboss isn’t and Bambam has really no choice but to speak up even if it sounds pretty lame.

“It was a baby. A newly born child from the leader and consigliore of the branch family. The leader had begged for mercy for their child and I don’t really have the heart to kill it especially when it literally knows nothing of the underworld.”

A pause. “Where is the baby right now?”

It was a good sign and Bambam didn’t hesitate to answer this time. “I brought the baby with me and had dropped off the basket near the adoption house with some cash underneath the blanket and left a note indicating for adoption.”

Jinyoung stares at him, scrutinizing for any lies and his choices and Bambam had second thoughts at his answer and scolding himself slightly for being too optimistic. But Jinyoung doesn’t say anything after, instead he takes his gaze off from him and lets out a forced sigh. The decision was approved without complaints from their consigliore and boss.

The strategy capo lets his shoulders sag in relief, but straightens up again when Mark spoke up. “That should be the last time you’ll disobey orders, Double B. If the instructions says you’ll leave no survivors, you _will not_ , I repeat, _will not_ leave any survivors even if it’s a newborn baby. That applies to everyone. Understood?”

It was an order and a final at that. Disobeying the order again means punishment, or worse, death. A collective hum of affirmation resonates inside the room, echoing to a solemn melody.

The next capo was Jackson, who had just barely gathered his bearings, pipes up. “Negative. There was quite a problem since I wasn’t expecting an ambush when I stepped inside the mansion, but all is well after.” He was assigned to retrieve a package in London, but was, unfortunately, stuck for a month in the city before he was able to carry out his mission due to heavy rainfalls. Though he might have enjoyed the museums and the big ben tower a little too much and really, he wasn’t complaining for being stuck for a month.

Jinyoung’s scowling face says otherwise. “An ambush? Was there a miscalculation?”

Jinyoung turns to look at their strategy capo, questioning and asking for answers. Bambam didn’t bat an eye despite the questioning gazes he received and merely shrugs which could be interpreted as ‘yes, there was a miscalculation, but who cares?’ or ‘of course I know there was probability of an ambush, but this was a suicide mission, so I may or may not have mentioned it to Jackson, but he dealt it fine, right?’

“Bambam, you litt—,” Jinyoung starts, but was cut off when Jaebum calls his name and he quiets down. Jaebum’s mouth twists a little a bit and a frown was replaced, displeased at the news.

“Details,” he simply says and Jackson was quite too pleased to answer. “It was the Hawthorne family. Apparently, they knew I was coming way before I had come to UK. It appears they have ears in our territory, but I couldn’t get any more details since the man I had kept alive killed himself after spilling a few information. Objective remains unknown.”

Youngjae blinks at the mention of the Hawthorne family, one of the few renowned families in UK and a part of the International Council, yet had remained as the House of Black Pegasus. It was a baffling thought that the respected family had ambushed them for a retrieval mission. Though the Hawthorne family had been quite prickly for the past few years, they hadn’t shown any hostility to other families for entering their territory. If they had known the mission and had intentionally planned the ambush, there must have been a problem within the Council or that they have finally snapped for being too lenient.

All Youngjae knows is that their boss would be thoroughly displeased about it. And true to his thoughts, Jaebum has a scowl on his face and a look of displeasure at the details. There was not enough reason for him to bring up the problem to the Council and have the Hawthorne family step down from their throne. Even if he wasn’t sure if the ambush was intentional or a misunderstanding, he would need to hunt down the family’s dogs.

Mark observes their leader, noting that he wouldn’t be speaking anytime soon. He turns his head to their last capo and grins at him. “Youngjae, you’re up.”

Youngjae nods his head and had a few moments to recall his last mission. It was a mission in Italy to contract a deal with the Luciano family and to annihilate the whole Santiago family. There was no problems as far as he was concerned, only a few bruises from his back down to his torso and a missing set of knives, but that was already replaced last three days ago. The corner of his lips lifts up a bit, eyes twinkling a bit in pride. “Affirmative.”

Jinyoung seemed to have returned to his good mood and had affectionately sent the capo a proud smile. Mark seemed a bit pleased also, but Jaebum doesn’t react nor did he give any recognition to his work and that’s alright. Youngjae’s pretty much used to it and having Jinyoung’s and Mark’s approval was all he need.

“Alright.” Jaebum had readjusted himself in his seat, taking the folder in front of him and brashly opens it that Youngjae swears the folder would have been ripped. “Open your folders and listen.”

Two hours later and Jaebum gone, the rest had been lounging in the living room with a somber expression mirroring each other. The meeting had gone off well despite the awful discussion that had taken place. Jaebum had discussed the ongoing deal with the Lee’s and so far, their boss hadn’t still responded to Jaebum’s conditions. Meanwhile, the rift between the Cha’s and Jung’s family had continued to widen causing a disruption in the drugs operation and cargo transport. Problems continue to pile up one after another which gave the Seoul Council a reason to terminate operations.

The last thing they talked about was that they had to go undercover for a month until everything is restored to the way it was, but it doesn’t mean that they will no longer do their duties, rather they will just keep it low and give more time for their undercover.

Jinyoung rubs a hand on his face, trying to will away the incoming headache. He leans his back on the couch, trying to get into a comfortable position and bit his lower lip as he thinks. Meanwhile, Yugyeom chatters quietly with Bambam about his mission in Russia, complaining about the damn cold and how he had to stay bedridden in the hotel for a week because of it. Bambam snorts at his best friend’s luck, patting his back with fake sympathy to which the younger had batted his hand away in distress.

Jackson had opted to leave the room, announcing that he will be in the basement if they need him which fell to deaf ears. Though Youngjae had belatedly answered back when the door had already been shut, earning himself a chuckle from Mark who was playing with his hair. Youngjae, who was laying his head on Mark’s thighs, looks up and shoots the older man with a pout in which Mark had cooed in response.

“Eww, keep the PDA to yourself. We don’t need to see it,” Bambam commented from the other side of the couch with a disgusted look on his face. Yugyeom was glaring at them, and Jinyoung was simply in his own bubble, ignoring everyone and everything. Youngjae raises an eyebrow at the two and stuck his tongue out while Mark shook his head and continued to card his hand through the younger’s soft hair.

After a minute of banter from the three capos, Bambam and Yugyeom had left to go to their undercover jobs, mentioning that they will be back after dinner and will probably get food outside. Jinyoung had long snapped out from his deep thought and had simply nodded to the two as they left. Youngjae, on the other hand, had been feeling drowsy, feeling his eyes heavy despite getting enough rest the night before.

Mark seemed to notice his trouble and had silently moved the younger into a comfortable position before continuing to play with the younger’s hair. “You can sleep some more Jae. I’ll wake you up later.”

The younger mutters a ‘thanks, hyung’ and had let himself be claimed by darkness, muting his senses of any discussion that Jinyoung and Mark will have. Jinyoung stares at the consigliere’s and capo’s intimate position, feeling devoid of any emotions and yet, his mind searches for an answer in the blankness.

He wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

Why would he—when he isn’t capable of loving someone? Simply, if he would put it into words, he is curious of what it is to love someone whether it is sexual or romantic. Trained with a detached heart, Jinyoung thinks that something is missing, but it is not love—then what is it?

As he continued to stare at them, Mark had met his gaze, cutting any thoughts that Jinyoung’s mind was starting to process. He was stunned, to say at least. Unable to come up with words with the questioning gaze from a consigliere and not of a friend. Mark have graced him with a starting point and the underboss couldn’t be more relieved to have not started the conversation, though he grimaced at the nickname used that he had long forgotten about.

“What do you think about the meeting today, Junior?”

“I thought I told you that nickname is a taboo.”

Mark shrugs. “And so it is. But do answer the question.”

Hearing the slight stern in his voice, Jinyoung falls back into his business mode, crossing his leg over the other in the process. “The Cha’s and Jung’s problem would resolve in its own if they had simply compromised. The Cha’s conditions aren’t bad, to be honest, especially if they are headed by one of the council.”

“But the Jung’s are stubborn. They wouldn’t let the Cha’s take 40% of their earnings especially when they are in the front lines. I guess their pride matters more than their oath,” the consigliere wistfully said.

A wry smile takes place in younger’s face. “Bounded by our oath, soon, a bloodshed will cleanse it once again and we will have to create another string.”

The older man nods, silently agreeing with that sentiment. He takes a look at the sleeping capo’s face on his lap, poking the younger’s cheek with a smile as Youngjae scrunched his face cutely and mutters incoherently before falling again to a sound sleep.

“How about the deal with the Lee’s? What do you think should we do?”

Closing his eyes briefly, he opens them once again and Mark could see the cold glint in it. “I say we kill them, but Jaebum went against that idea when I brought it up as an alternative if we didn’t get our deal. Saying something about the council in our tail and he doesn’t want that.”

Mark chuckles, agreeing somewhat to Jinyoung’s idea. “That would be the easiest way, indeed. But what Jaebum said is true. The council would hound us for annihilating a family that is concerned with the audit of each trades and operations. They would find every dirt possible on us and have us strip of our power and if luck is on our side, leave a few of us alive.”

Grimacing at that possible event in the future, Jinyoung wearily sighs, ending the conversation along with it. Mark doesn’t seem to be bothered about the sudden end of the conversation, instead he continues carding the young capo’s hair, seemingly to get fixated on it. And though their conversation had ended that way and everyone had left to do their things, a common goal had already been set and before things end up in the worst case scenario, they must do it fast and undetected.

 

“Yugyeom, I swear if you don’t stop whining for the nth time, I’ll shove your ass to the nearest garbage can I find,” Bambam exasperatedly said, glaring at the younger who was carrying all his shopping bags in both of his hands. They had decided to go shopping (well, most likely Bambam and Yugyeom was just there to carry the shopping bags for him) before they separate to do their jobs. It had been their 11th store and Bambam was still not yet done with his shopping, casually looking at the accessories displayed, and not really interested in their design.

Yugyeom pouts at him, but ceased the whining in slight fear that if he did continue his whining, Bambam might not only shove his ass in the garbage, but actually have him killed instead. The patience of the older wasn’t to be tested at some point, especially in shopping. He wearily sighs when Bambam announced that he doesn’t like the jewelries in the store and left the store. He follows him out and found the older already going inside to the neighboring store.

Going inside, he was surprised to find that they were in a vintage tailor shop. The interior design was of the 80’s, antique furniture decisively displayed across the room and the pungent smell of earth and books filled his nose. The smell soothed his nerves, calming his tense form and he found himself looking through the various tailored coats and dress shirts in the racks.

A shirt caught his eyes and even with the numerous bags in his hands, he swiftly maneuvered them to one arm and took the shirt in his free hand. The dress shirt’s hue was black, vertical stripes with a few distinct flowers of red and yellow placed on a few locations were the design, the material was of a cotton, smooth and seemingly an iron-free one. Smiling at the simple design and somehow, a good catch quality, he looks for the tag and immediately, his smile fell and his eyes widened in shock.

It was $15,000.

The dress shirt cost for $15, 000. It would have been fine if a suit was included, but for a dress shirt to cost that much? No, he wasn’t buying it even if he wanted to. He could already buy several clothes or even an apartment in Gangnam with it. He isn’t a frugal type of person, but he would know the limit of lavish spending even if he’s rich. With that thought, he reluctantly placed the dress shirt back to its place and regrettably sighed. He really liked the design though.

He turns his back to look for his companion and quickly covered his mouth to muffle his shriek. Bambam laughs at him, holding two suits and a dress shirt in his hand. The older had meant to tap Yugyeom’s shoulder, but the latter had turned his back and was surprised to see him behind him. Yugyeom glares at his best friend, who continued to laugh at him until the younger had whined at him to stop.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What are you looking at anyway?”

Yugyeom shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. The price is too much and I’d rather buy a new car.” The younger steps aside to make his way to the door. “I’ll be outside, so hurry up already.” And left the store with a somber trail. Bambam stares at the door and blinks as he turns to look at the rack where Yugyeom had placed the dress shirt he liked.

Taking it by the hanger, he quietly assessed the dress shirt, noting the design that it was indeed Yugyeom’s taste. He rubbed his thumb on the fabric and concluded that it was made from a fine Egyptian cotton, nodding his head at such fine quality. Shifting his gaze to the turned tag, he takes it and frowns at the price.

 _So that’s why he didn’t take it,_ Bambam thought and returns the hanger back to the rack.

 

“As a gift to our regular customer, we provide you a rose gold cufflinks that had been intricately designed by our excellent designers. It is a one of a kind and there are only two stocks of it for it is limited. As such, one of it will be of your possession.”

Taking the box, Bambam inspected the cufflinks and hummed in approval. The manager of the store was pleased of the reaction and handed the bags to him. He smiles at the manager and takes his leave, immediately looking for his best friend. He found him across the street, sitting on the bench outside the café, drinking a chocolate shake. He waves at him to get his attention, but the latter doesn’t seem to notice him forcing Bambam to cross the street and drop the bags at the bench to get Yugyeom’s attention instead.

It worked even if it somehow startled younger and looked at the former with surprise, but soon it had melted to recognition and a nod of his head. “You done?”

“Yeah, thanks for accompanying me.”

Rolling his eyes, Yugyeom raises his hand, palms up motioning for the younger to pay up while he continues to drink his shake. Raising an eyebrow, Bambam slaps the hand hard, earning him a wince from the latter and a glare.

“Oh hush you. I’ll pay up, but with food. Haul your ass up or else I’m leaving you.” Then he turns and walks a few steps away, hearing Yugyeom curse and proceeds to attempt to get all the bags on one arm and stomps his way to join his stride.

“I hate you,” he huffs out, trying to adjust the bags on his arm and cursing under his breath when one had almost fallen out of his grip.

Bambam grins and winks at him. “Love you too sweetheart.”

Youngjae slowly opens his eyes, bringing up a hand to rub at his eye to which was suddenly batted away by someone. Blinking, he looks to his side and saw Jackson who was shaking his head at him.

“It’s bad to rub your eyes, Jae,” he chides lightheartedly and proceeds to place a kiss on the younger’s forehead and stands up from his crouch. “Get up now and join me in the dining room. I’ve prepared lunch for us.”

Youngjae yawns and nods his head, becoming more aware of his surroundings and noticed that he was still in the meeting room and that Jinyoung and Mark were nowhere to be seen. His coat had been placed on the coat rack and a coat which he remembered was from Mark was used as a makeshift blanket for him. He sits up, stretching his arms as a yawn left his mouth once again.

“Where’s Jinyoung hyung and Mark hyung?” he asks, as he swings his legs out of the couch and stretches once more as he stood up. Jackson picks up Mark’s coat and hangs it on the coat rack and takes the younger’s coat and hands it over to him.

“They left together, but not mentioning where. Mark told me that he left you in the meeting room and didn’t have the heart to wake you up since you looked pretty tired to him. He asked me to wake you up when lunch comes though.”

Youngjae hums, feeling the butterflies in his stomach at Mark’s concern for him. He couldn’t help but smile which didn’t get unnoticed by Jackson who ruffles his hair in endearment. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [How about we play a game? Yeah, a game of guessing who I am? I mean, you’d eventually want to know who I am, right? But of course, it’s not only guessing who I am, but also determining how things will go. It’s not going to be easy and everything has a price, but that would make it all the more exciting! How about it? Please?  
> …  
> Ah, well, you don’t have pretty much a choice anyway. The moment you stepped in, the game had already started. So I wish you the best of luck! See you!]

**Author's Note:**

> I finally had this up after several weeks. Moved from aff to here so this is my first fic in this site.  
> Hope to have this well-weaved and end it before the year ends.  
> Do tell me what you think of!


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